


Bittersweet

by thinkatory



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Angst, Black Family, Blackcest, F/F, Pureblood Culture, Pureblood Society, Purebloods, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-06
Updated: 2010-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 01:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkatory/pseuds/thinkatory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sweet, bitter, bittersweet. Your life can change in an instant -- from sweet to bitter to bittersweet. No one knows this better than Narcissa Black, who has lost the only person she ever loved. Even chocolate tastes bitter, now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bittersweet

**Author's Note:**

> Written before Half-Blood Prince.

**Bittersweet**

**Sweet** _adj._ **sweet-er, sweet-est.** _Having the taste of sugar or a substance containing or resembling sugar, as honey or saccharin. Pleasing to the senses; pleasing to the mind or feelings; gratifying._

You loved chocolate.

Only the best, naturally. Girls of your status would never touch food prepared by unworthy people. The chocolate of Berkeley and Whitby’s Confectioners, the best sweets that magical Paris could offer, was your poison.

You loved it. You hated it. It was your weakness.

One night, when you were eight and she eleven, Bella asked you why you loved chocolate so much. You tried to explain about the fantastic taste and the rush of pleasure. Bella nodded seriously, and gave you a piece she stole from the kitchens.

You never noticed her reveling in the soft groan of pleasure, the ecstatic look on your pale face, your half-closed eyes.

You never noticed she was begging for that look until three years later, when she drew louder groans from you with sweeter things than chocolate.

* * *

When Bella went to Hogwarts, you could barely sleep without her beside you. When you finally reached Hogwarts, she was too close to resist. You crept up to her dormitory. She held you, kissed you, loved you until you managed to fall asleep, then took you back to your dorm.

It is remarkable how things change. You fell into the rhythm of life at school, you made friends, you made enemies. You still clung to Bella every night, but your greatest fear was your passion for Bella might be fading, like your passion for sweets.

Nothing could be better than Bella.

So you clung to her, kissed her, made her moan so sweetly every night.

It wasn’t enough.

* * *

**Bit-ter** _adj._ **bit-ter-er, bit-ter-est.** _Having or being a taste that is sharp, acrid, and unpleasant; difficult or distasteful to accept, admit, or bear; resulting from or expressive of severe grief, anguish, or disappointment._

The boys liked you. They still do. You are a goddess made of ice, terrible, pale, lovely.

It disgusted you. Nonetheless, you practised, learned. You became very good.

Men. You had as many as you liked, but every night you returned to Bella. She didn’t mind--as long as you were there later that night.

You found a challenge. His name was Lucius.

He said he didn’t want you. You convinced him otherwise. It didn’t take long.

The night that you finally had him, you slept in his bed. The first night you had ever slept without Bella.

You panicked when you awoke. You went straight home, tried to speak to her, tried to kiss her. She wouldn’t listen.

You didn’t react. You became what you pretended to be all along; cold, untouchable, lovely.

Ice, like glass, can shatter.

* * *

**Bit-ter-sweet** _adj. Sweet and then bitter or bitter and then sweet; esp. sweet with a bitter after taste; hence, pleasant but painful._

You did not speak to her anymore. You doubted you could manage a cool exterior around her.

You tired of Lucius quickly, but he was still good for things besides for pleasure. You owned the finest silks and all the lovely things money can offer.

Chocolates.

He offered a box to you, and you forced yourself not to react. Naturally, they were Berkeley and Whitby’s.

You tried one. You managed to swallow, eventually.

Even chocolate has become bitter, without Bella.

* * *

And here you are, Narcissa Black, standing in front of a full-length mirror, in your wedding dress. It is as comfortable as a body-sized shackle made of silk could be.

You stare at your reflection, as if daring it to contradict you.

_You love Bella. You always have. But it's never enough for you, is it, Narcissa?_

It is foolishness to even consider putting "love" and "Lucius" in the same sentence.

You walk up the aisle.

_Damn yourself to eternity with a man who will never truly have you..._

His eyes are like a mirror. Cold. Empty. Bitter.

"...in sickness and in health?"

_I love you, Bella._

"I do."


End file.
